


on the wind i heard a sigh

by KaavyaWriting



Series: where the road then takes me [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bilbo feels, Canon Compliant, Family Feels, M/M, dwarf feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 20:10:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5261858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaavyaWriting/pseuds/KaavyaWriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwalin wants to discuss Frodo. Bilbo doesn't. He knows Dwalin only gets chatty when he has a point to make.</p>
            </blockquote>





	on the wind i heard a sigh

**Author's Note:**

> So I just watched the BotFA extended edition, and this happened. My feelings are broken.
> 
> In my head this fic is part of a much larger story, but I think it works well as a standalone. Enjoy the feels? <3

"He reminds me much of Thorin." Dwalin nodded to where Frodo had disappeared into the shrubbery with Balin, off to examine the plants they'd been discussing. Medicinal uses. Óin would be proud to hear it, and it would no doubt be one of the many stories Balin shared with the Company when they returned to Erebor from their latest visit.

Bilbo stilled where he sat on a stone near the fire, cup of mead half raised to his lips. He lowered it slowly, watching Dwalin watch him, firelight jumping and leaping in both their eyes. "I… yes, I see it as well," he admitted, and paused, gathered his startled thoughts back in line, a group of misbehaving ducklings that needed to be nudged into order. "His eyes, and his quiet watching, his grief. But he isn't Thorin."

Dwalin made a little huff, irritated. "Not my point."

"What _is_ your point?" he inquired mildly, and finally sipped his mead.

"Wandering thoughts. What-ifs."

Bilbo smiled faintly into his cup. "Thorin and I never would have had children between us, barring a minor miracle from the Valar."

Dwalin laughed, loud, uproarious. "That'd be a sight. You with child?"

Bilbo arched an eyebrow, mouth curling in his own amusement. "What makes you think it would be me and not Thorin with child?" Bilbo timed it well; Dwalin sputtered on his own drink, choking and cursing at his own misfortune. Bilbo laughed.

Dwalin favored him with a scowl. "Anyway, wasn't what I meant."

"Oh?" he said, trying to ignore the sinking in his heart that he hadn't successfully derailed the conversation after all. Bilbo wasn't sure where Dwalin was headed, but he was nonetheless certain he didn't want to hear it. Dwalin didn't usually beat around the bush.

Dwalin didn't pull his punches now, either. "He _could_ be. Your son. Thorin's son. You know it as clear as I."

"He isn't," Bilbo said firmly. This was what Dwalin wished to discuss? Bilbo would not have it.

"He is a prince," Dwalin said, determined, "in all but name."

"He is a Hobbit, in name _and_ blood."

"If you came back with us—if you came home—"

" _No_ , Dwalin. Frodo belongs in the Shire. I will not take that from him."

Dwalin fell silent, watched him for long minutes. They listened to the distant laughs of Frodo, the undertones of Balin's teaching voice.

"You are still our leader, Consort of Erebor," Dwalin said quietly. "Our Council still seeks your advice, Dain and Balin and the others write you near constantly. Your return would be welcome. Frodo would be honored. He would take his place in the house of Durin. We love our children."

"I know that." Bilbo looked hard at him. "That doesn't change who Frodo is, or where his heart rests."

"He is your son," Dwalin said stubbornly. "It is so, immutable. He is Thorin's son, by our law."

"He is Drogo and Primula Baggins' son," Bilbo said sharply. "I would not take his parents from him for all the world, Dwalin. I will not have others take their place."

Dwalin growled, an irritated sound low in his throat. "You know better than that."

"So do you," Bilbo snapped right back. He huffed, turned to stare into the dark wilderness where they camped, barely a day from the settlements in the Blue Mountains. He took a breath, and another, and finally sighed out his frustration. "Erebor is my home, but it is not Frodo's. He may have something of Thorin in his mien, and have picked up something of an adventurous spirit from me, but that is not who he is down in his bones. Dwalin," Bilbo turned back to him, caught his gaze, "He is a Baggins, and a Brandybuck, and Hobbit blood runs in his veins. In his heart, he is in love with the Shire. That may change, it may not. But he is too young to take from his home. You of all should appreciate that. We fought to regain ours."

 _Our home_. The Lonely Mountain, it was startling how deeply the cavernous halls had etched their way into Bilbo's being. It was his home. It always would be, until the day he took his last breath.

Bilbo loved the Shire, and he loved Rivendell. One meant contentment, and slow, honey-glazed days among golden sun and green hills—his childhood, his past. The other was a deep, ancient peacefulness echoing through the valley in ways Bilbo had no comprehension of until he'd first set foot upon Elrond's land. They were good places to live, to linger, but they were not home in his heart. Not anymore.

Only one mountain, one tomb, one Dwarrow held that title.

Dwalin was silent for a good, long while, leaving Bilbo to his thoughts. When Bilbo dug his way free, he found the old warrior watching him with a certain quiet knowledge that made Bilbo feel exposed, understood in ways he wasn't sure he was comfortable with.

"Aye," he said when he knew he had Bilbo's attention. "But now he is Khazad, too. Should you ever claim it, he would be an honor to our clan."

Bilbo saw the seriousness in Dwalin's face, and he nodded slowly, accepting it for what it was: the truth. Companionable silence fell between them once more as Bilbo digested Dwalin's point.

Frodo belonged in the Shire.

Perhaps that would change, someday.

Perhaps Frodo would not belong to the rolling green hills forever.


End file.
